

//^ 



AN ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE Tl 



WASHINGTON AND FRANKLIN 

LITERARY SOCIETIES 



LA FAYETTE COLLEGE, 



EASTON, PENNSYLVANIA, 



EIGHTH ANNUAL COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 20, 1843. 



BY WM. A. PORTER, A. M. 



OF PHILADELPHIA. 



EASTON: 

PRINTED AT THE SENTINEL OFFICE. 

1843. 



IW % 



1!1 

K 



3 

Lafayette College, Sept. 20, 1843. 



Respected Sir : 

In behalf of the respective societies, which we represent, we present 
you their sincere thanks, for your eloquent and highly interesting address 
delivered before them this afternoon, and earnestly request a copy of the 
same for publication. Yours, sincerely, 

SAMUEL S. CLARK, 
JAMES S. REESE, 
CHARLES BRODHEAD, 

Committee Washington Society. 

PHILIP JOHNSON, 
ROBERT J. WRIGHT, 
D. V. SIMPSON, 

Committee Franklin Society. 



Easton, September 20, 1843. 
Gentlemen : 

In obedience to your request, I have the honor to enclose a copy of 
the address delivered before your societies, this afternoon. Having been 
written more for the purpose of testifying my respect for your societies, 
than for any other object, you are at liberty to make whatever use of it, 
may be supposed to advance their interests. If upon closer examination, 
it should be found less worthy of the terms prompted by your feelings of 
personal kindness, — be good enough to recollect, that it was thrown 
together, not amid the leisure and retirement favorable to literary pursuits, 
but at short intervals, snatched from such care and excitement as one of 
the author's age, seldom happens to encounter. 

Begging you to present to your societies, my cordial thanks for this 
mark of their favor, 

I remain, gentlemen, most truly, 

Your friend and obedient servant, 

WM. A. PORTER. 
To Messrs. Samuel S. Clare, 

Philip Johnson, and others, Committees. 



ADDRESS 



Gentlemen of the Washington and 

Franklin Literary Societies : 

In an age like the present, I presume it may be safely 
affirmed, that the improvement of the mind, is the noblest 
of all employments. Until that immortal principle loses 
its control over brute matter, and men cease to sigh after 
happiness, no murmur, but one of approbation, shall 
attend the assent yielded to such a doctrine. The eifects 
of the mind's expansion upon the individual man, as 
well as upon his social condition, are recorded in the 
history of the past in letters of light. From what 
source, if not from this, come his dignity and impor- 
tance ? Why, if not on this account, do his pleasures 
exceed so vastly, both in number and degree, those of 
other animals of the creation ? Wherein is he more 
exalted and more happy, than those who have preceded 
him on the stage of life, and now sleep in death, — but 
in the results produced by his own mighty intellect? 
This is true of man as mortal ; of him as immortal, the 
same truth may be spoken with emphasis. Whatever 
a false philosophy may assert, it cannot be that the 
mind, here enlarged and cultivated almost to the extent 
of its powers, shall in that other state of being to which 
we hasten, take its place among the meanest of its 
fellows, and be compelled to start afresh in the pursuit 
of knowledge. The idea is absurd and delusive. The 
history of man shows that knowledge is progressive ; 



-If 

6 * $ 

and that every idea acquired, must tell in fearful ratio 
upon his happiness or misery, unless he; be entirely 
destroyed. Hence the importance and tlfe majesty of 
the scholar's occupation ! These are fiioughts that 
nerve his arm to deeds of greater d^ing;, than " flood " 
or " field " ever sees. Whoever can vforget them, is no 
worthy worshipper at your common ^hrine, — no worthy 
participator in your common joys !. * 

Connected with these general remarks on the subject 
of mental culture, and, as I hope, rfearly enough allied 
to them to warrant this introduction, is one which will 
be dwelt upon at greater length ; namely, that the hu- 
man mind has never been so successfully cultivated, nor 
produced fruits so abundant, as where opportunities for 
improvement have been fewest. "V^ith this speculation, 
somewhat curious in itself, and, if true, somewhat 
important in its consequences, it is- proposed to occupy 
a share of your attention. * A few reflections on the 
duties owed on this account, p thoie who seek intellectual 
advancement, together with an a#empt to point out the 
roads which conduct to it, form tne balance 1 of the draft, 
designed to be made on your patience. 

I. But in what mode^are/>ve to investigate the 
subject? I answer,' in the s^me^-that every truth 
sought to be placed on*a solid foundation, must be 
investigated. How does tlie merchant settle in his 
own mind, the laws of trade ? How does jthe profes- 
sional man establish those grave pjropositiofis, that are 
to influence the minds of others^* .$ow does the 
chemist ascertain, that oxygefr is i^pessa^y to the sup- 
port of animal life ? How does the natural philosopher 
prove, that bodies are attracted towards one another 



inversely as the squares of their distances ? How, but by 
collecting numerous facts, and drawing from them all, 
a general conclusion. Upon this same rock, both the 
practical man and the philosopher, base all their con- 
clusions in respect to the truths of life. These are the 
results of that great system of inductive philosophy, 
which boasts its origin from Lord Bacon, * — a system 
as simple and as sublime in itself, as its influence has 
been extensive, on the best interests of society. Indeed, 
considering its simplicity, and its importance in every 
department of knowledge, as well as the effect it had in 
subverting old systems of philosophy, and imparting a 
new impulse to the spirit of inquiry, we are amazed 
that the Greek philosophy, that mixture of fraud 
and superstition, should for so many centuries have 
swayed its sceptre over learning, and crippled, if 
it did not prostrate, the energies of the human mind. 
That men should expect to arrive at the knowledge of 
truth, by forming a theory of their own, and then insti- 
tuting through creation, a search for facts to sustain it, 
is wholly unintelligible to modern minds. Happy day 
for the cause of truth, when these bonds were rent 
asunder ! 



* I have observed that Mr. Macauley, in that admirable performance, — 
his Essay on Lord Bacon, — finds fault with those who make Bacon the 
originator of Inductive Philosophy ; and attempts, by a variety of reasons, 
to prove that " this notion is about as well founded, as that of the people 
who in the middle ages, imagined that Virgil was a great conjurer." (See 
* Miscellanies ', Vol. 2, p. 384.) But with all deference to Mr. Macauley's 
genius, it may be observed, that he misconceives entirely the sense of the 
terms employed. When Bacon is spoken of as the originator of the 
Inductive System, is meant, I fancy, not that this method has not " been 
practised ever since the beginning of the world," and that too, " by the 
most ignorant clown, and the most thoughtless school-boy,'' — but that he 
first exposed the absurdity of all other systems, and applied this one alone 
to science and philosophy. It would appear, therefore, at first sight, that 
although he did not implant in man the power of generalization, Bacon 
may be styled the originator of the system, and those who so style him, 
not, after all, " talk such extravagant nonsense " as Mr. M. seems to 
suppose. w. a. p. 



Let us, then, refer to a few of the great events which 
mark the advancement of the race ; and examine the 
histories of some of the mighty men, who have, in all 
ages, stood up to assert in their own persons, the rights 
and powers of our nature, and whose glory attracts the 
eye of the traveller, at every step. If these illustrious 
actors in the drama of life, be found springing up in the 
lowliest places, and finally outshining those placed by 
nature above them ; and if in the record of the past, 
the progress of human genius may be traced, not down 
towards the earth, nor parallel with it, but up from it, 
and that, even under circumstances most adverse, — 
it will be time to search for the causes of facts, at once 
so novel and so full of meaning. The inquiry, if not 
decisive of the question, may perchance cheer the 
hearts, and strengthen the hands, of some of that troop 
of gallant youths, who are forcing their way, through 
toil and disappointment, to greatness and honor ; and 
who are hurrying on to make the laws, fill the offices, 
and sustain the character of the Republic. If it tend, 
in the remotest degree, to effect this object, I shall be 
content. 

To illustrate the countless causes, which have operated 
to change the face of society, for good or for evil, has 
given employment to the most gifted minds the race has 
produced. An enumeration of many of these, would 
be "stale" and "unprofitable"; a very few, selected 
from the huge mass, will answer our object. Without, 
therefore, referring to the ancient Republics, — your own 
recollections, fresher than mine, will perhaps furnish 
from this source, illustrations of the doctrine to be 
enforced, — I set down the Propagation of Christianity, 
as among the chief of these causes. The magnitude 
of this event is such, that we can with difficulty view it 



fairly. Being the grandest revolution the world has 
ever seen, and that one whose consequences will be felt 
longest and most strongly ; aiming to bring into subjec- 
tion the bodies and the spirits of men, to control human 
conduct, and to change the face of the world ; present- 
ing in itself so strong an evidence of the truth of our 
religion, that we desire none stronger ; setting before us 
such examples of untiring energy, of long-suffering 
patience, of profound wisdom, of lofty eloquence, of 
ardent patriotism, of pure benevolence, of sublime 
morality, that we desire none better ; — the time will 
never arrive when this event shall not, in proportion as 
it is understood, deserve the serious attention of all 
the children of men. That such a work should have 
been committed to the hands that actually performed it, 
is not the least remarkable fact which it presents. 
Heads destined for crowns, and hands for sceptres, — 
men reared in the lap of science and philosophy, — those 
before whom nature had spread her richest treasures, 
and at whose beck stood the power of the law, and the 
purse, and the sword, — were quietly passed by, and the 
immortal task assigned to people, born and reared in 
the lowest stations of life. A few fishermen — without 
education, — of proverbially humble occupation — leaving 
behind, their implements of labor, — invoking no human 
assistance, — taking no thought what they should say, — 
and possessing a stock of personal property not amount- 
ing to a change of raiment, — step forth and execute the 
Divine work, while the rest of the world look on with 
languor, or take up the sword in bitter, unrelenting 
opposition. If it be objected that they were aided by a 
Superior Power, the argument is strengthened. They 
were, then, the chosen authors of the revolution. 



10 

Turn now to the history of modern Europe, — the 
fairest field for the investigation of any problem respect- 
ing man's existence. It is a world, of itself. The man- 
ner in which mind tottered forth in its infancy, then 
walked firmly, and finally leaped forth in full strength 
and beauty, might here be studied with accuracy, if the 
previous history of the world were blotted out forever. 
By a glance at the reformation of the sixteenth century — 
one of its most prominent features, — this, together with 
the main object of our inquiry, will be illustrated. — 
Considered merely as an historical fact, and without 
reference to its consequences, — for to discuss these 
properly would require too large a space, — this event 
is one that the intelligent student of history cannot 
neglect, if he would. Bullets and words, are not more 
different in themselves, than in the effects they produce. 
When, therefore, revolutions are effected by bullets and 
bayonets, or the fear of either, however great in them- 
selves, or terrible in their consequences, we see their 
causes, imagination is shorn of its power, and we look 
upon them with comparatively little surprise ! Of such 
a character, were the extortion of the Magna Charta, — 
the establishment of the Commonwealth, — and the 
Revolution of 1688. The price of all these, either 
directly or indirectly, was blood. Such events, though 
of vast importance, and fit to be cherished while the 
love of freedom maintains its empire in the human 
heart, seldom strike us with singular awe. Not so with 
revolutions entirely bloodless. When by the force of 
reason, without the use of other weapons than the voice 
and the pen, and consequently without the usual resort 
to brute force, a change of any kind is wrought 
in the affairs of men, — the spectacle challenges pe- 
culiar astonishment. Of a change started and carried 



11 

on by such means, the reformation is a memorable 
instance. And by what hands were these weapons 
wielded? By John Huss, for a good portion of his 
life, a hired servant ; by John Reuchlin, a little child, 
accidentally picked up by the Margrave of Baden ; by 
Erasmus, disowned by his father, an orphan at the age 
of fourteen, and, at best, an humble Monk : by Ulric 
De Hutten, a common soldier; by Hans Sachs, a 
shoemaker, who is said to have " followed his business 
and made verses, with equal assiduity ;" by Ulric 
Zwingle, a shepherd's boy ; by Philip Melancthon, 
who spent his youth in the workshop of an armorer ; 
by Martin Luther, the son of an obscure miner ; by 
John Calvin, the descendant of an industrious cooper. 
Passing by the questions involved in the issue, — they 
must be left to abler and better hands, — and considering 
the extent of the work proposed to be accomplished 
and the means necessary for its accomplishment, as well 
as the long established character and learning and power 
of its opponents, who will deny that minds surrounded 
by no advantages for their developement, may produce 
abundant fruits ? 

That much discussed, but poorly understood, and 
still more poorly appreciated, revolution, which towards 
the close of the last century, convulsed to its centre the 
Kingdom of France, is another historical fact, from 
which, if it be remembered that the phenomena of 
human nature, form by far the most important study of 
mankind, — much instruction on a variety of subjects, 
may be drawn. To contemplate the fantastic tricks here 
played before High Heaven, by the most elevated classes 
of society ; the unbridled play given to the fiercest and 
foulest passions that degrade our nature ; the unconcern 



13 

with which men divested themselves of every affection 
of the heart ; the joyful faces with which they watched 
the gurgling of innocent blood, and were not sated ; the 
stupendous character of the machinery put in motion to 
accomplish ends, either extremely puerile or disgustingly 
low ; and the deliberate manner in which the axe was 
attempted to be laid at the root of the domestic relations, 
the principles of justice, order, law, government, and 
the very religion of God, — presenting altogether a sight 
only surpassed by that which meets our eye in the 
description of Pandemonium ; while it causes the be- 
holder to start back with horror and disgust, also teaches 
him a lesson of immeasurable and invaluable practical 
wisdom. But unless this be followed up, by looking 
behind the scenes of excitement, and penetrating the 
characters of those infernal spirits, who guide and con- 
trol all others, and whose voices are ever heard far 
above the crash of elements, — I mean as well of Rous- 
seau and his co-laborers who in effect laid the plan, as 
of Danton, Marat and Robespierre who executed 
it,— we can never know how tremendous a power for 
evil, men of humble origin may wield. 

But the story of the American struggle for indepen- 
dence, throws most light on the truth we are investi- 
gating. Such a revolution, it is true, is hard to be 
understood. It is one of those epochs which mark out 
with gratifying distinctness, the march of the human 
family on the road to greatness and honor ; one of the 
palpable evidences of that fierce struggle which the 
giant spirit of man, is sometimes forced to make, to 
shake off th'e load which, for a time, it has been called 
upon to bear. Yet its true history will never be written. 
No human tongue can ever recount with justice, its rise, 



13 

progress, and results, — no human hand ever erect a 
monument, which shall worthily proclaim and com- 
memorate the deeds of its great actors. That noble 
monument lately raised upon the spot moistened by 
some of their best blood, if it pierced the Heavens, 
and were as durable as those same Heavens, would but 
inadequately perform its distinguished office. The at- 
tempt made to write its history, by one of our most 
illustrious countrymen, although it has completely iden- 
tified his name with the glory of his country, is at best 
a splendid failure. The theme was beyond the perfect 
grasp even of such an intellect. How, indeed, shall a 
modern mind describe the birth of this Liberty in the 
gloomy caverns of the middle ages ; and set out, with a 
power and brilliancy worthy the subject, its progress 
over the necks of kings, through tumult, anarchy, and 
blood? Who shall tell how kingly power, with its 
thrones and sceptres, has thus been beaten into the dust, 
and forever humbled? Who shall commemorate the 
sorrows suffered, the treasures spent, the labors borne, 
the sacrifices offered up, by the friends of freedom in 
our own clime, in asserting its dignity and importance ? 
Who, looking with prophetic eye over the whole history 
of liberty, shall describe the influence which such a 
victory, obtained by human right over human wrong, 
shall always exert upon that divine cause, — how it shall 
humble oppressors of mankind not yet born, — how it 
shall heal wounds not yet inflicted, — how it shall bind 
up hearts not yet broken ? Who, simply regarding the 
future history of this continent, shall calculate the 
influence of such an occurrence upon thought, upon 
science and the arts, upon commerce, upon religion, 
upon law ? But if the subject be thus difficult of com- 
prehension to fts, what must it have been to those who 



14 

directed the movement ; and who must they have been 
that formed the project ? After this lapse of time, and 
in the condition which love of country at present holds, 
every allowance may be made for the enchantment 
which distance lends to the view, and but an imperfect 
estimate be formed of their characters. That they were 
pre-eminently fitted for the occasion, in point both of 
ability and integrity, the voice of mankind has long 
since settled. Of their courage, the whole contest is 
incontrovertible evidence. That they were men of 
highest — purest magnanimity, no one can doubt, who 
has studied their acts as it became him. " There go a 
few millions," was the just exclamation, when Charles 
Carroll stamped his name on the instrument, which 
struck off our chains. If " the liberties of our country 
require their being burnt to ashes, issue the orders for 
that purpose immediately," said John Hancock, as he 
alluded to the whole of his valuable possessions, in the 
town of Boston. What men, but such as we have 
characterized these, could thus have spoken, and thus 
acted ? — Look also at the personal histories of the noble 
forms, we see ranged round the sacred hall, from which 
issued the Declaration of Independence. A few of 
their fathers had doubtless sought the country from 
other causes ; the repeal of the Edict of Nantes, and 
the barbarous measures of the Stuarts, sent the balance. 
It would, indeed, be a curious work to ascertain, how 
many of those who assisted in cancelling our indentures, 
on the 4th of July 1776, took their descent from the 
men, who brought to the block the head of Charles I., 
and afterwards chased from a throne doubly disgraced, 
his corrupt and cowardly son, — acts, whose parallels in 
point of exact justice, heroic courage, and vast benefit 
to society, we may search long and anxiously the 



15 

historic page and never find. It is said that one, * at 
least of the number, was lineally descended from a 
conspicuous actor in the scenes of 1649: how many- 
more is uncertain. But the conjecture does not seem 
fanciful, that much of that same blood which nervel the 
arms of the soldiers of John Milton and Ol:ver 
Cromwell, also flowed in the hearts of many vho 
engaged in this still greater and more important struggle. 
At all events, they sprang, for the most part, from those 
who had fled from a tyranny, they had not the ability 
to resist. As a consequence of these facts, they were 
men whose lives had been sustained by the bread which 
toil alone can purchase. Cut off from the luxuries of 
courts, and rich estates, and crowded capitols, and 
thrown upon their own resources, they had here begun 
life anew. When, therefore, we see the tallow-chand- 
ler's boy, and the shoemaker's apprentice, two of the 
most conspicuous members of the committee appointed 
to draft the Declaration of Independence, we feel no 
surprise. Nor is the feeling excited, when we discover 
among that august assemblage, Whipple, the cabin-boy 
and common sailor — Paine, the obscure school teacher — 
Hart, Floyd, Hopkins, and Smith, the industrious 
farmers — Walton, the carpenter — Morton and Hunt- 
ington, the plough-boys — Williams, the town-clerk — 
Penn, the uneducated country boy — Taylor, the com- 
mon day laborer — Hewes, the humble Quaker, whose 
parents had sought in New Jersey, a shelter from the 
intolerance of New England — and the vast majority of 
the signers of the Declaration, men who had single- 
handed hewed their own road to the high places, which 
that paper found them occupying. Fit instruments for 

Benjamin Harrison. 



16 

so glorious a work ! When did men ever make more 
just resistance to tyranny ! When did resistance to 
tyranny ever call forth better men ! 

How many sagacious statesmen, profound jurists, 
learned and exemplary divines, and devoted champions 
of science in all its branches, the country sprung from 
such a source, and declared to be free and made free by 
such a race of men, has since given to the world, and 
how many it will continue to give through coming 
time, — there is, most probably, no created intellect that 
will ever know. 

We have thus examined at random, some of the 
great events, that have characterized the past history of 
the world. Other causes have contributed to its condi- 
tion, less noisy in operation, and less dangerous in 
tendency, at which it may be instructive to glance. 
Among the latter, I place Literature, Science and the 
Arts. Compared to the former, these are like the gentle 
zephyr, which daily follows the sail with maiden con- 
stancy, and brings it at last to the hospitable haven. 
The others resemble fierce and sudden blasts, which, 
for a time, put in jeopardy the very existence of the 
fragile bark, but urge it on its course with ten-fold speed. 

Who then have been most distinguished in Literature ? 
If we take the English Poets, by way of example, we 
find them with singular unanimity, carving their own 
road to eminence. Allowing memory to recur to the 
pleasant pursuits of other days, we recollect that the 
most illustrious man in the ranks was driven by poverty 
to deer-stealing; that the next most illustrious, was 
forced by the same cause to sell for a few paltry pounds 



17 

what has since cost the world its tens ot thousands ; that 
the author of Hudibras, was too poor in his youth to 
be sent to college ; that Dryden commenced the world 
poor, and, as far as its riches were concerned, left it poor ; 
that Otway followed in the same track ; that Ben 
Johnson was a brick-layer ; and that Prior was reared 
by the hands of a vintner. The famous translator of 
the Iliad submitted to the general destiny, and became, 
in the language of his biographer, " a commoner of na- 
ture, excluded from the regular modes of profit and 
prosperity." Savage, disowned by his parents, and 
cut off from all support, was tried by the world and 
sentenced to want and wretchedness; Thompson was 
educated by charity ; Akenside, and, long after him, 
Henry Kirke White, were reared by respectable 
butchers ; Falconer drew his life from a barber; Chat- 
terton had an account against a sexton, for the melan- 
choly one which he endured; and last, but not least, Burns 
was born and educated on a farm, not more than suffi- 
cient to sustain its occupants. Thus much for the early 
lives of the poets, and their opportunities for improve- 
ment. They form a commentary upon the develope- 
ment of genius, which can never fail to instruct, whilst 
genius has an admirer. 

The lives of the majority of prose writers, whose 
names cause the page of English history to shine with 
so rich a lustre, if examined with care, would show 
the same results. 

The annals of German Literature, also teach a lesson 
in regard to mental cultivation, unworthy of neglect. 
They remind us constantly of regular lines of soldiers, 
reaching where the eye cannot see, and blending in 



18 

the distance, — their spears and helmets dancing in the 
sunbeams, — and all armed for the fight. If it be doubt- 
ful whether Germany have a Literature purely national, 
it is certain that no country has ever contained a band 
of more devoted and better disciplined literary warriors, 
or retained them for a longer period of time, in active 
service. True, much they have done is pernicious, and 
much more worthless ; yet observe that ever since the 
accession of Charlemagne, (who imparted an impulse to 
literary taste that did not exhaust itself for many centu- 
ries,) down to the very day on which we speak, — a pro- 
ficiency in letters, has been one grand distinctive feature 
in her national character. Philosophy, theology, criti- 
cism, the exact sciences, poetry, history, politics and 
jurisprudence, all have had their faithful advocates. 
To attempt to designate the circumstances in which one 
in a thousand of them labored, would be useless. Let 
this point be dismissed in the language of an able 
writer, * to whom all the greatness of Germany seems 
familiar. "It would be melancholy to study the lives of 
many of the most eminent German scholars, so great 
and so numerous were the hardships and deprivations, 
to which they were exposed in the commencement of 
their career, were it not that we almost always discern 
a firmness of mind, which never yielded to desponden- 
cy, and the serenity and happiness proceeding from the 
conscious exercise of exalted talent." 

So too with the country of Rollin and Massillon 
and D'Alembert, and St. Pierre and Lebrun and 
an innumerable host of distinguished sons, — a country 
that has given to science many a persevering explorer, 

* See American Quarterly Review, Vol. II, p. 177. 



19 

to religion many an able defender, to philosophy many 
a faithful expounder, and to literature in general, many 
an ardent votary, — sometimes, the sport of brutish reli- 
gious and false philosophies and bastard literatures, but 
always the home of learning and refinement. Bid 
those we have named stand forth, and to them, add 
as many more as it seemeth good, and mark whether 
or not their testimony agree with that already ad- 
duced. 

The victories of Science, and the champions by whom 
they have been gained, next demand our attention. As 
these achievements are eclipsed by few in splendor, so 
they are perhaps of all others most beneficial to man. 
What misery does Science not relieve ? What wants 
does it not supply ? What useless expenditure of labor 
does it not prevent ? — How are our houses constructed ? 
How is our clothing manufactured ? How is the earth 
made to yield her fruits ? — Who annihilates distance to 
suit the convenience of the farmer and the merchant ? 
Who marks out those paths upon the sea, which never 
lead astray ? Who penetrates space, and opens to 
our gaze, worlds never before conceived of by 
man, thus expanding our minds and ennobling our 
thoughts? Ask these questions of Science, and mark 
the replies. But where are laborers found for these 
manifold employments ? Among kings and princes, who 
might command the necessary helps to instruction? 
Among the rich, who might, without starving their 
children, purchase the means of prosecuting scientific 
research? Among men of leisure, who might make 
scientific experiments, as an agreeable pastime ? Among 
the powerful, who might defend themselves even by 
physical force, when attacked on account of their 



20 

opinions ? Let us see. The man who discovered gun- 
powder, was accused of magic, and immured in a 
dungeon. That most scientific navigator, the discoverer 
of America, gained the means of accomplishing his 
great exploit, by beggary. What were their opportuni- 
ties for improvement? — He who first announced that 
the earth revolved round the sun, would have burned at 
the stake, if the announcement had not been kept back, 
until his death was near at hand. What inducement 
was this for the prosecution of such studies ? — A sub- 
sequent defender of the same system, was twice com- 
pelled by a barbarous inquisition, to abjure his belief, — 
although he did mutter, each time, " It moves still." 
Fine stimulus that, to the spirit of inquiry ! — Kepler, 
Newton's great precursor in Germany, is known to 
have passed his youth in poverty. Of the two most 
distinguished astronomers Great Britain has produced, 
one gained his first knowledge of the science, while 
attending the sheep of his master ; and the other 
belonged, in his youth, to a body of foot-guards. — 
Botany was reduced to a science, by a shoemaker. Dr. 
John Hunter, the most accomplished surgeon, and one 
of the most remarkable men, his profession has given to 
the world, was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker. The 
steam engine was brought to what we call its perfection, 
by a maker of mathematical instruments. The most 
valuable improvements ever made in cotton-spinning, 
were made by a barber. The world has rung with the 
praises of a chemist, who was originally an apothecary's 
apprentice. The discoverer of the mariner's quadrant, 
was an humble glazier, — too weak to preserve the glory 
his own talent had gained him. Of the inventor of the 
lightning rod, either enough has been said, or enough 
will be said. We, therefore, conclude this part of the 



21 

subject by the fact, that the individual who put the first 
steamboat in motion, enjoyed only the benefit of a 
common school education. Unnumbered instances of a 
similar kind are on record ; these occur at the moment. 
Let it be imagined, then, what encouragements such 
men could have had, in the investigations of science, 
and what hardships they must not have endured. 

In approaching the triumphs of Art — and particularly 
of the fine Arts — every mind is pre-occupied with the 
thought, that they, of all others, must owe themselves 
to wealth, and to the refinement and leisure which 
wealth can mostly command. The products of this 
branch of the arts take rank, neither among the neces- 
saries nor conveniences of life, but among its luxuries ; 
for it cannot be, that men who are shivering with cold, 
or suffering from hunger, will experience pleasure in the 
contemplation of other arts, than those which shall feed 
or warm them. Hence, it is among the noble and the 
rich alone, that we look for the votaries of art. How 
stands the fact ? Take Italy as a sufficient example, — 
for it would be impossible to enter upon numerous 
details. Whence come its great masters of art ? From 
the stations in life we have indicated ? Not a man of 
them. Leonardo da Vinci's birth, was as ignominious 
as it was humble. Michael Angelo, it is true, sprang 
from a family of counts ; but it was not until his own 
branch of the house had become extremely reduced in 
every way, that it was able to produce so towering a 
genius. Corregio, with one exception, its very bright- 
est ornament, was reared by the poorest parents, in the 
most obscure village, and not until long after he had 
studied the principles of his profession, and applied 
them successfully to practice, did he see a painting or a 



22 

statue, whether of the Grecian, Roman or Venetian 
school. Much the same was the case, nearly a century 
after, with Claude, in whom the design of becoming a 
painter first implanted itself, when employed in the 
double capacity of a color-grinder and kitchen-boy. 
Style these what we may, and speculate in regard to 
their causes as we may, they are historical truths which 
no man can dispute, and which no aspirant after honor- 
able fame can contemplate without profit, or pass unno- 
ticed without loss. 

We have so far dealt only with facts. Let us now 
reason from these facts to their legitimate causes. Why 
is it, then, that intellectual pre-eminence so often exhi- 
bits itself under circumstances, to all appearance, 
strangely adverse to its growth ? The answer is obvi- 
ous. The road to such pre-eminence is no less steep 
and cragged, than its summit is difficult of retention, 
when once reached. To the truth of this remark, the 
privations of the student's life, — his frustrated plans, — 
his broken hopes, — his untasted pleasures, — his wasted 
health, — are swift and willing witnesses. These, too 
often, constitute the price men are obliged to pay for 
distinction. To enable them to discharge the obligation, 
an abundance of resources is necessary. These re- 
sources can be obtained in no way save one. A vic- 
tory over one difficulty, is but the precursor of another 
j^et more splendid. This obtained, the remainder 
vanish before the steps of the conqueror, like the morn- 
ing mist before the morning sun. Yet, the latter tri- 
umphs owe themselves altogether to the former. Upon 
the secret strength, courage, and experience derived 
from our first conflicts with difficulty and danger, hangs 
the achievement of all subsequent conquests. From 



23 

the force of habit, men become so accustomed to tram- 
ple upon all that opposes their progress, and the em- 
ployment becomes so agreeable, that such encounters 
are finally regarded but as luxuries of life, which it is 
their privilege to enjoy. A belief in his own invinci- 
bility takes up its abode within the man, — imperceptible 
to those around, except by its effects, — but strong as the 
love of existence, and deep-rooted as the fiercest pas- 
sion. The enjoyment of life is even sweetened by the 
business of crushing, or if not that, overthrowing what- 
ever obstacles may chance to beset the path his eye has 
marked out. Upon the same principle, many of the 
victories won by the French army under Napoleon, 
explicable on no other, are easily accounted for. When 
the same spirit is carried into the literary world, how can 
any man fail ? But another question, — in what mode 
can the man's nature become so moulded, unless he 
begin in a lowly condition in life, and hew his way up ? 
To expect to see these principles of action flourishing 
and growing in the bosom of one, nursed in the arms of 
ease, would be to expect the oak that has graced the 
mountain top for half a century, suddenly to transport 
itself to the hot-house, and gather new strength from 
the change. — Nature has decreed otherwise. Her 
whole course is otherwise. Her trees grow gradually. 
Her rivers, instead of bursting from the rock at 
once, are formed by frequent accessions of strength. 
The fruits upon which her children are nourished, are 
not those of a day, — but the results of numerous 
showers and sunshines, and of much care and Watch- 
fulness. So in the animal kingdom, men are born, not 
giants, but helpless infants : whether or not they fulfil 
the high purposes of their creation, must depend upon 
the severe training through which, either they force 



24 

themselves, or are forced by circumstances, to pass. — 
Here, I trust, are the fact and the explanation. 

Let it not be concluded from this, that, in order to 
improve successfully the mind, all opportunities ought 
to be carefully shut out. We have uttered nothing that 
will support such unpardonable nonsense. Let every 
help to this end be greedily seized upon : but let us, after 
all, be thankful that the mind of man has been made 
thus free, and thus capable of enlarging its powers, re- 
gardless of its outward circumstances ! Let us rejoice 
that the spirit of man depends for its advancement in 
knowledge and goodness, not so much upon its fellows, 
nor upon the circumstances in which it is situated, as 
upon its own native and imperishable strength ! Let us 
rejoice that Heaven has placed it beyond the reach of 



•the whips and scorns of time, 



The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely ! 

Let us clap our very hands for joy, that no outward 
danger, however apalling, — no force, however great, — 
no chains, however strong, — no hunger, however keen, 
— no physical suffering, however acute, — no exercise of 
arbitrary power, however base, — no death, however 
cruel, — can blot out that immortal principle, or crush 
its Heaven-born energies, or retard its Heaven-ward 
progress. 

II. I have spoken of some of the scenes through 
which men pass, in drawing out the powers of their 
minds. There is one inference from this, which would 
seem to deserve marked attention : — let no man, upon 
pain of forfeiting the respect of his fellows, attempt by 



25 

word or deed, to crush the energies of any mind. I 
speak not now of the attempts made by the tyrants of 
the earth, to stop the progress of knowledge. These, it 
is true, have been frequent and cruel, but so utterly 
impotent as only to deserve contempt. I speak of the 
efforts of the individual man for improvement. Despi- 
cable indeed, and beyond all power of language to 
describe, must he be, who could, by an unkind word or 
act, retard such efforts. It is an outrage which no man 
has the right to commit. In a country where perfect 
equality is the birth-right of every citizen, this doctrine 
ought to be well understood. In such a country, too, 
we need the boldest spirits nature can produce ; and 
upon them, a high premium ought always to be set. 
We want no one who has grown up under the dread of 
any master. Then, again, who but he that has passed 
through it, can ever know the nature of the battle 
which the student is continually fighting with himself? 
We read with astonishment of those of the olden time, 
who were wont to spend whole lives in the vain search 
after the philosopher's stone ; and we expend our 
powers of ridicule upon their folly. The ranks of 
literature have often exhibited a folly, in some respects, 
scarcely less strongly marked. Yet these very labors, 
cast about the student's life a chief attraction. What 
sight is there in our vast creation, fuller of moral 
grandeur than that of a youth of tender age, without 
money, without friends, without counsel to guide him, 
without patronage to sustain him, without books to 
instruct him, without kind words to cheer him, forcing 
his way up from ignorance to knowledge, and conse- 
quently, to greatness? In such a course, there is a 
heroism, which, in a revolution, would exalt the pos- 
sessor into the idol of the State, — on the field of battle, 

D 



26 

would render his arm stronger than a Macedonian 
phalanx, — and in the council-chamber, make him the 
arbiter of nations. There is an absence of display,— 
a respect for the opinions of others, — a gentleness*and 
timidity blended with a firm reliance on himself, which 
must always command the highest admiration and 
applause. When it is known that Jhis is not the 
impulse of a moment, but the cool and settled purpose 
and considerate action of years, our admiration is not 
abated. Nor does it suffer any che§k, when we go 
further, and reflect upon the silent character of the 
labor he performs ; and the fact that most men could 
stand at the stake in the face of a crowd, to whom, when 
unobserved, slight suffering or exertion w,ould be in- 
tolerable. — The consoling belief is entertained by many, 
that the illustrious dead look down from their Jiappy 
homes, upon the world they have left, and 'are acquaint- 
ed with its affairs. If this be so, itj^ .'dijfi<5ult to CQnceive 
of the thrilling interest, with which one of that countless 
number of pure spirits who have themselves trodden 
the same path, must regard the progress of such a man, 
of the more than common joy which every successive 
triumph must impart. — How then cfare atfily man attempt 
to damp the ardor of so generous a spirit ? How dare 
he say, "I am stronger, or wealthier or <of better 
understanding than thou ; take thou a mere lowly 
place, — this was made for me ; aim thou $t a more 
humble mark, — this thou canst not strike ?" I know 
very well that the purest and besj man r is always in the 
power of the worst of his species. I kno^ that the 
most loathsome reptile that crawls the* earth, may cut 
down in an instant, the stoutest defender of his country, 
or the gravest philosopher who, .ministers tocher wants. 
But I know also, that the mere' possession df power by 



27 

no means implies the right to exercise it. Why, then, 
should those who are placed above him, by the accident 
either of age, or power, be permitted, in any manner, 
to darken the scholar's prospects ? Indeed, observing 
his personal character, the motives of his actions, and 
the effect of his pursuits upon human happiness, why 
should not every hand be ready to assist him, and every 
heart to sympathize with him ? And, yet, after all, it is 
not idle to suppose, that many a genius far more lofty 
and more brilliant than any the world has seen, may 
have been struck down by that world's coldness and 
neglect. 

These remarks address themselves, in some measure, 
to the instructers of youth. If neglect has been the 
assassin of genius, not a few of its children have fallen 
by hands that should have cherished and protected 
them. Harsh treatment has quenched the ardor, and 
daunted the courage, and destroyed the self-reliance, of 
many a youth, who, but for that, would have covered 
with honor those from whom it was received; and 
many another, who, but for that, would have made, if 
not striking, at least respectable, attainments in literature. 
There was a time when it was imagined, that no idea 
could be successfully imparted to the youthful mind, 
unless the body were at the same time made to suffer. 
Happily, this stace of things is passing away. The best 
schools, now, are those from which bodily torture has 
been wholly banished ; and where reason has resumed 
the mild, but powerful, sway, to which, by the laws of 
nature, she possesses so clear a title. Yet this is among 
the least gorgeous of the triumphs, which modern 
Humanity, guided by the genius of Christianity, has 
succeeded in achieving. Turn where we may, we 



28 

behold her, not adorned with spoils snatched by force, 
but with the emblems of peace and gentleness,— not 
crushing her foes beneath her wheels, but by the very 
act of victory, changing them to friends, — not treading 
out the precious sparks of liberty, which God hath 
deposited in their hearts, but, by her very breath en- 
kindling there, a living, burning flame, — and dispensing, 
as she rolls on to other battles, every soul-cheering, 
life-giving fruit which charity and mercy, (blessed 
friends of man !) have ever supplied for his support. 
If he be in want or sickness, Humanity relieves his 
necessities, and mollifies his wounds with ointment. 
If he be perishing in a distant land for lack of spiritual 
knowledge, she traverses Oceans to spread out before 
him the bread of life. To him who would destroy 
himself by vice, she speaks in the soft notes of a 
mother's voice, and withdraws him from temptation. 
On him, too, in whose bosom reason no longer holds its 
throne, her gentle influences descend like the dew of 
Heaven, imparting health, strength and freshness, 
wherever they touch. Even in our mode of punishing 
the unhappy criminal, and in our treatment of the un- 
fortunate, but honest debtor, reason and kindness have 
put to flight the cruelty of darker ages, and occupy for 
the first time their rightful places. It would be hard if 
the lot of the inquirer after knowledge, should remain 
unchanged ; and he alone come not within the sphere 
of this elevated and comprehensive Christian philan- 
thropy. 

When we speak of the struggles men make, and the 
hardships they end ure,in attaining distinction by the force 
of mind, suppose not that this is the fate of a few born to 
misfortune ; to call it the unavoidable destiny of all 



29 

who would rise above the mass of their fellows, would 
be truer. Let this be illustrated by a bright " example, 
to our purpose quite." A poor printer's boy stands be- 
fore his case, with sallow complexion and thoughtful 
brow. Discontented with the home of his youth, or, 
peradventure, moved already by the hidden workings of 
the spirit, which is yet to exalt and ennoble his name 
among all the men who worship genius, he leaves the 
spot which gave him birth, and becomes a silent, pover- 
ty-stricken wanderer in a distant State. For a few 
years we lose sight of him, and find him owning a print- 
ing press, and possessing the "pen of a ready writer." 
An interval of a few more years elapses, and that pen 
is enlightening the minds of his countrymen on the 
subject of their freedom. As a proof of the confidence 
reposed in his integrity, ability and devotion to the cause 
of the colonies, he is sent in person, first to expostulate 
with, and then in the name of his country, to hurl 
threats in the face of, its bitter and unreasonable enemy. 
The influence of that series of brilliant scientific ex- 
ploits of which he was the author, had already begun 
to be felt by the world ; they put in a claim to his great- 
ness, which is unresisted by the generation then on the 
stage ; and posterity bows to its justice, in submission 
and admiration. Thus his fame has become the pro- 
perty of mankind. — These are the prominent features 
of his history ; and dazzled by their splendor, these are 
the only facts, of which the mass of men are ever in- 
formed. But where, I ask, is the true account of his 
rise ? Where are his secret thoughts, — where the disap- 
pointments, the discouragements, the heart-sickness, the 
fruitless and soon forgotton struggles, which beset his 
path? The triumphs are written; where are the 
failures ? Did no temptations and defeats lie along that 



30 

road of toil, which he was appointed to run ? Did the 
elements so far forget their character, as to be tamed 
without an effort ? Was his career as a politician, — 
bright as it appears, — entirely uncheqnered ? Little do 
they know of human nature, who can thus think. His- 
tory has not recorded most of the difficulties which 
marked his course, and it is right they should be forgot- 
ten. Such is the life of the statesman and the scholar. 

Look for a further illustration of the fact, at the life of 
the statesman and the warrior, — whose greatness is cer- 
tainly not less intellectual, than that which spends its 
strength over books. I am carried back to the same 
glorious era, we have left. My eye rests upon a strip- 
ling, who traverses with hasty step the fields of Virginia, 
and bears in his hands, the chain and the compass. His 
descent is taken from respectable parents of moderate 
means. Of one of these, nature has deprived him ; but 
left him a stout heart and a vigorous constitution ; and 
for the rest, he trusts to his right arm and to God. 
Having acquired a knowledge of the mathematics, his 
own spirit and his country's danger drive him to the pro- 
fession of arms. His skill, courage, and integrity place 
him in enviable comparison with officers of highest rank, 
and largest experience, and mark him out a candidate for 
greater military honors. The first drum regularly beat 
in that dread conflict which is to make his country free, 
is beat at his command. Victory followed by victory 
builds up for him a reputation tarnished by no defeat 
which human skill could avert, and places before men 
of arms, an instance of vast disproportion between 
results and the means of their accomplishment, — the 
best rule by which military exploits can be measured, — 
such as cannot be found in all previous European wars. 



31 

Even the celebrated " seven years 9i war, that most 
wonderful exhibition of skill, and bravery, and all the 
arts of generalship, presents no such instance.— Thus 
resisted, subdued, and humbled, the mother country 
abandons the unequal contest ; and that of our birth 
takes her place among the free nations of the earth . 
Then arrives the occasion for that sublimest act of which 
man has yet conceived. Amid the assembled represen- 
tatives of the people, the sacred commission accepted in 
time of danger, is resigned in time of peace ; and the 
man who could have taken his seat on a throne, and worn 
a crown, and wielded a sceptre, returns to the ranks of the 
people, a private citizen ! God-like act, when will the 
eyes of man behold thy parallel ! From this retreat, he 
is called to assist in framing a Constitution for the new- 
born republic, and to preside over the Convention con- 
stituted for that purpose, — beyond all doubt, the most 
learned, liberal, and enlightened body ever assembled 
on the continent which contains us. This done, another 
call of graver import reaches him, and he goes to put in 
motion, the newly devised and novel form of govern- 
ment. Eight years of toil and excitement pass away, 
each marked by a depth of sagacity, a strength of 
patriotism, and a vastness of comprehension rarely 
excelled, and the warrior-statesman voluntarily lays 
down his power at the feet of the people, and shortly 
after, lays down his body in the grave. — This is the 
picture history presents us ; and impious the hand that 
would mar its proportions or its coloring. But where, 
let me ask, is the other portion of the history ? Did he 
encounter no painful struggles, in reaching his first 
post of distinction ? Did he endure nothing at Brad- 
dock's defeat ? Was that no occasion of trial, when, at 
one time, in the face of the nation, a strong party had 



32 

secretly banded together, to exalt over his head, an 
officer * of subordinate rank, then commanding the 
northern portion of the army ? Did no grief and mor- 
tification rend that heart, when towards the close of his 
civil administration, he saw himself deserted by those 
whom his hand had fed, — his acts wilfully misrepre- 
sented — and all the means made use of to pull down that 
high character, which malice and thwarted ambition 
could invent ? To say so, would be to deify our great 
political parent. Man is made to struggle, is the law 
under which life is held ; and he but submitted to the 
common lot. It is joyful to know, however, that in the 
light of history these facts are viewed but as the dust of 
the balance ; and rightly so. The fairest monument 
ever reared by human hands, would appear compara- 
tively mean, if the sight re-called to mind, the mode 
and the difficulties of its construction, instead of the 
magnificence of the whole. 

III. Having discoursed of what men have achieved 
by exertion, and of what is due to those who thus 
endeavor to exalt their condition in life, an important 
question remains to be answered, before the previous 
suggestions, can be of practical utility. Taking these 
things for granted, how is this intellectual distinction to 
be obtained ? 

1. I answer, that the first requisite either for indi- 
vidual happiness, or the ability to accomplish anything 
great or good, is labor. Apart from all other conside- 
rations, it is a duty commanded by the highest authority, 
recognised by intelligent beings : " Six days," — not 

Horatio Gates. 



33 

mayest thou, — but " shalt thou labor ;" and if the 
wisdom of a command were ever inferrible from the 
effects of its observance, that of this one, is clearly 
established. On every fibre of the body, in every 
human want, in every effort of the understanding, in 
every great event, the necessity of labor is plainly 
visible. By labor, the bodily frame is invigorated, life 
is prolonged, and the earth made to yield, not only the 
fruits which minister to our enjoyment, but those also 
on which existence depends : hence, its high place in 
every well received system of political economy. By 
labor, the capacities of the mind are developed ; science, 
art, and commerce flourish ; cities rise ; and sails flap 
on every sea. Such being the intrinsic value of labor, 
it is not strange that mankind should have stamped 
upon its face, their opinion of its worth. By common 
consent, mere physical labor has been invested with a 
dignity, which makes the laborer more than a lord. In 
literary pursuits, it is much the same. Let the author 
produce a romance, a book without a reference, betray- 
ing no thought but the thought of the moment, — and 
though it be more brilliant in conception, and more 
elegant in style, than all that have preceded it, if read, 
it will be read but to be forgotten. But let him produce 
in his book, the results of research, and of learning, and 
of painful and long continued toil, and that book will 
survive both him and his generation, and no man will 
mention his name but with respect and gratitude. For 
the same reason, if the performances of the Divine, or 
the Lawyer, evince no pains, no study, no laborious 
investigation, it matters little how daintily the dishes be 
served up, they must pall upon the appetite of the 
hearer ; and the first will be preparing addresses to 
empty benches, while the second is bellowing to the 



34 

walls of the most inferior courts. What is this, I ask, 
but the testimony of all mankind voluntarily rendered to 
the excellency of labor ? — In addition, labor is a positive 
luxury ; and, unlike other luxuries, one, of which a sur- 
feit is rarely obtained. Forming as it does, the only 
road to rest and enjoyment, its absence would render 
life an insupportable burden. 

Like a coy maiden, Ease, when courted most, 
Farthest retires. 

It is not, therefore, by fatiguing her with attentions 
which have already failed to prove agreeable, but by 
imitating that cautious policy resorted to in some other 
instances, and forming an intimacy with her grand 
enemy and rival, — that she can ever be surely won. — It 
may, therefore, be assumed as an inexorable law of our 
nature, written on every part of it, and one whose wis- 
dom daily experience confirms, that, to live is to labor. 

In all countries, this doctrine will hold good ; in our 
own, particularly so. Every citizen of a Republic, has 
two great incentives to labor. First, it is here the 
highway to honor. Under such a form of government, 
public opinion commands and forces men to labor, and 
scouts them when they refuse. It is thus, that while 
many of our Trans- Atlantic brethren are enabled to live 
without habits of industry, and to enjoy the respect of 
their fellow-men, such instances with us are peculiarly 
rare. — Secondly, labor is the great antagonist of aris- 
tocracy. It is the province of the latter, to look down 
upon the former. Its very essence is a contempt for it ; 
its whole business to crush it ; its effect, to set before 
the world examples of indolence, more inimical to its 



35 

happiness, than a thousand plagues. Inasmuch, there- 
fore, as luxury and perfect liberty, whose price is 
" eternal vigilance," are entirely incompatible, it is 
evident that liberty can have no more faithful and 
valuable handmaid than labor. 

2. The second road to eminence, and the only remain- 
ing one I shall notice, lies through virtue ; if these two 
paths do not conduct to honorable fame, it will puzzle 
the ingenuity of the wisest, to find those which do. — 
The doctrine, that virtue is necessary to the stability of 
society, is hardly truer than trite. The whole history of 
man speaks on this subject, a voice that never can be 
other than wilfully misunderstood. The pre-eminent 
necessity for its existence in a Republic, is also inscribed 
on the past, as by the hand of a giant. When those 
who compose the government are vicious, how can it be 
administered? When the laws are invaded, and the 
murderous arm is raised, and property becomes insecure, 
and grim Anarchy stands close at hand, bestowing a 
ghastly smile upon the scene, who shall speak peace to 
the storm ? Do you approach the pulpit ? That is 
occupied by the people, — and though a peculiar people, 
— still by the people. Do you call upon the press to 
open its artillery ? That is controlled, in a high degree, 
by the popular will. Do you call upon the officers of 
justice ? They are a part of the people. Do you turn 
to the army ? They form another portion. How, then, 
can a Republic sustain itself, unless sustained by vir- 
tuous members ? But it is not so much of this I speak, 
as of the tendency of virtue to produce individual 
happiness and elevation. The position is as true in the 
one case, as in the other. Not to mention physical 
results, the time consumed in the practice of vice would 



36 

rob the votary of letters, of all chance of final triumph. 
In the pursuit of any branch of literature, and particu- 
larly that of poetry or eloquence, there can be little 
doubt, that purity of thought is one of the first elements 
of success. Impurities of the blood prostrate the body, 
not more speedily nor surely, than grovelling thoughts, 
the mind. We are told that the frequent contemplation 
of the beautiful in the physical world, will even leave 
its traces on the human countenance. Why should not 
the contemplation and the practice of virtue, also exalt 
and purify the mind, and fit it for higher flights ? That 
there are those who pursue the opposite course with 
success, is no good argument to the contrary. This is 
an instance of the most common, as well as the most 
fatal, errors in human logic. The result is here pro- 
duced, not by means of vice, but in despite of it. If a 
modern steamer bearing a burden of a thousand tons, 
outstrip a merchant vessel carrying but five hundred, — 
how absurd were it to attribute the excess of speed, to 
the excess of the cargo ! In one respect, the cases are 
parallel. — As a matter of mere policy then, the student 
•ought to be a man of more than Spartan virtue. His 
struggles and his hopes demand this. When, however, 
by the practice of its kindly offices, his kindred and his 
country are made happier, and he is rendered more able 
to bear the ills that flesh is heir to : when he reflects 
with St. Pierre, that "nothing is durable, virtue alone 
excepted. Personal beauty passes quickly away ; for- 
tune inspires extravagant inclinations ; grandeur fa- 
tigues ; reputation is uncertain ; talents, nay genius 
itself, are liable to be impaired ; but virtue is ever 
beautiful, ever diversified, ever equal, and ever vigorous, 
because it is resigned to all events, to privations as to 
enjoyments, to life as to death:" when, too, he recog 



37 

nises the close connexion between virtue and that 
sublimest of all faiths, of which only the spirit of man 
can partake and live ; — that faith which can rescue him 
from the 



•Dark 



Illimitable ocean, without bound, 
Without dimension, 

in which vice finally plunges her victims; — and that 
faith which can spread out before him a bright, and 
beautiful, and happy future : — these are considerations 
that absolute madness alone would reject. 

I have thus, gentlemen, addressed you on such topics, 
as I thought might interest, by touching your daily 
pursuits ; might cheer those who seek improvement, 
even in the midst of hardship, by pointing out examples 
of success ; and might tend to raise the general estimate of 
knowledge, by showing the difficulties of its acquisition. 
Let me not conclude without reminding you of the 
country in which we dwell ; of the scope she presents 
for the successful developement of every mental power ; 
and of the right she possesses, to insist on the correct 
use of the knowledge we acquire. Fair are her fields ; 
rich her soil ; benign her laws ; exalted her past career ; 
wide her fame ; free the minds and the limbs of her 
sons ; courageous and warm their hearts. Let us be 
grateful to such a mother. Let it be our object, by 
virtuous lives, to add to the lustre of her name. 



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